


'Til We Don't Have the Strength to Go On

by Val_Cogswell



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, M/M, Multi, Novelization, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Somewhat canon divergent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:09:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28434420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Cogswell/pseuds/Val_Cogswell
Summary: It's by sheer dumb luck that Revas Lavellan survived the Conclave, and it'll be by sheer dumb luck that Revas Lavellan will go on to be known as the Herald of Andraste, whether he likes it or not.(Novelisation of Dragon Age: Inquisition, starring an equally bubbly and grouchy Dalish Mage Inquisitor who REALLY wishes that someone else would take responsibility for a change.)
Relationships: Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus, Male Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), Male Lavellan/Varric Tethras, Male Lavellan/Varric Tethras/The Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, The Iron Bull/Male Lavellan (Dragon Age)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first fic I've ever posted here on this account, and it's been like four years since I made this account. Hopefully I'll have the steam to keep going through all of this! Do not expect an update schedule; whenever this next updates is between me, my bizarre attention span, and god. This might stick a little close to the game at first, but hopefully I'll get to break more from the script later! Hope you all enjoy!!

The only thing the elf could focus on when he came to was the ever-pervasive, aching and throbbing pain that spread throughout his body.

His lower back practically burned, sore from the sitting position that he’d been forced into that had also caused his ass to go numb, shoulders twinging with the weight of the iron shackles that had been clapped shut around his wrists, keeping his hands still. There was a dull pain in his neck, and a significantly sharper, cramping pain in his middle. None of this, however, compared even remotely to the stabbing pain in his left hand, which sparked with a sickly green light that caused him to gasp with pain, before quickly trying to grit his teeth and clench the offending hand into a fist; anything to hide how much he really hurt. He didn’t know where he was, and there was no way in the Void that he was going to give away any weaknesses if he could help it.

Not that it particularly mattered. He was only now groggily realizing that he was surrounded, swords pointed at him, as though he were some kind of criminal. He supposed he must have been, to these amor-clad men. He was a mage, of course he’d be looked upon as something to cut down. Revas knew he should’ve been more upset, more concerned, but…

Nothing. He just wished that they’d get it over with already.

The door to his cell swung open to reveal two lightly armored women, both wearing cold expressions on their face, though the woman with short black hair looked much more severe than the other. The leaders here? Possibly; the guards sheathed their blades, and he instinctively tensed when the black-haired woman circled around him, taking him in.

He didn’t even bother thinking about trying any spells. He felt incredibly weak, and knew that any sort of attempt would just result in him being cut down.

Finally, the two women stopped, and the one who had circled behind him leaned down to his ear, while the other studied his face.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now,” spoke the one behind him, in an accent he struggled to place. Nevarran? It sounded Nevarran, not that he or his clan had ever met many Nevarrans. She continued to slowly circle to stand in front of him as she spoke. “The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.”

“What?” He raised his gaze to meet that of his interrogator. “What do you mean everyone’s dead?”

Did they think he had killed all of them? He couldn’t have. He didn’t even know that anyone had died. There had been hundreds, if not thousands of people at the Conclave, there was no way he or anyone else could have--

He was shaken out of his thoughts when she grabbed him by the wrist. “Then explain  _ this _ .”

Revas shook his head as it sparked aflame again with green, biting back a whimper. “I-- I can’t.”

She roughly released him, and his shackles clattered to the ground. “What do you mean you  _ can’t _ ?”

“I-I don’t know what that is, or how it got there--”

“You’re lying!” Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, she pulled him forward effortlessly; at the same time, the ginger-haired woman with a softer voice intervened, gently pushing her away.

“We  _ need  _ him, Cassandra.” What a pretty name for someone so aggressive. Cassandra’s expression was still quite cold, but she didn’t approach him again; small miracles, he supposed.

He gave a quiet sigh, trying to press his elbows into his middle to ease the cramping pain, or at least have some other type of pain to focus on. “So… what happens now?” Revas doubted he had anything useful to give them. What were they  _ waiting  _ for?

The other woman was leading the interrogation now, in a softer voice. “Do you remember what happened? How this began?”

With a quiet grunt, he shook his head again, blue brows furrowing as he tried to think. “I… remember running. There were…  _ things _ chasing me, and then...” What they were, he couldn’t remember; he could only remember hearing the rush of his own pulse in his ears, the voice of… “A woman?”

His new interrogator folded her arms across her chest. “A woman?”

“She was… reaching out to me, but then…” Another quiet groan. “That’s… all I remember. I’m sorry.”

The two women watched him for a moment, before Cassandra herded the other out of his cell. “Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take him to the rift.”

With a nod, Leliana set out, and Cassandra approached him, kneeling down to take off his shackles. Once freed, he rubbed at his wrists, gathering the strength to stand up. “What  _ did  _ happen?” Why was it all such a blank to him? He wouldn’t just forget something so cataclysmic. Would he?

Sensing that he was struggling to get up onto his feet, Cassandra helped him up, tone significantly softer now. Well… as soft as it could be. Revas had the feeling that sounding annoyed was just part of who she was as a person. “It… will be easier to show you.”

All he could manage was a nod, and once she’d let go of him, he folded his arms tight across the incessant ache underneath his ribs, trying to match her pace as they left the prison cells and up the stairs.

He shivered as they made their way up and out of what looked like… he wasn’t sure. The Chantry? He’d never been inside a Chantry before, and it didn’t seem like they’d spend much time in there, opening the large doors to let in a gust of cold wind. Once outside, he had to take a moment to turn his head and shut his eyes, blinking a few times as his pupils turned to narrow slits to handle the light bouncing off of the falling snow. He slowed his pace, coming to a stop as he looked up, and…

“Oh, shit,” Revas muttered to himself.

The sky was just as bright a green as the mark on his hand was, an angry, open wound surrounded by dark, swirling clouds, as something -- demons? He couldn’t tell from this distance. -- fell from the green storm.

“We call it ‘the Breach’,” Cassandra explained as she stopped near the elf. “It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It’s not the only such rift. Just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.”

He met her gaze again, his expression a mixture of awe and fear. “An explosion can do that?”

“This one did. Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world.” Another crack in the sky, lightning shooting down, caused his hand to spark again, throwing him off-guard. With a scream, he was forced down to his knees, cradling the hand against his chest and panting, blinking tears out of his eyes. Cassandra came down with him. “Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads… and it  _ is  _ killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time.”

Ah. So that’s why they hadn’t killed him outright, then. He should have guessed as much. Still… “The key to doing  _ what? _ ”

“To closing the Breach. Whether that’s possible is something we shall discover shortly.”

He couldn’t keep himself from shaking his head again. “I don’t… I don’t think I can do that.” Even if he felt stronger, he wasn’t sure he could do that sort of thing. That rift was gargantuan.

Cassandra gave him a slightly sympathetic look. “It’s our only chance. And yours.”

“You-- you still think I did this? To myself?” He knew he shouldn’t be asking that question, but fuck, he couldn’t think of anything other than the pain.

“Not intentionally. Something clearly went wrong.”

He pointed to his facial tattoos, representing a crow of Dirthamen’s. “Look at me, I’m Dalish! What would I have to gain from destroying the Conclave? Doing that would be suicide not just for me, but for my people!”

Revas could see her expression falter, but clearly, he hadn’t won this argument. “Someone is responsible, and you are our only suspect. You wish to prove your innocence? This is the only way.”

He opened his mouth to argue, before wisely shutting it. He wiped quickly at his face with his unmarked hand in an attempt to clean himself up, before breathing in deeply and then sighing. “I understand.”

“Then…?”

“I’ll do what I can. Whatever it takes.” There wasn’t any point in fighting this. He was going to die either way. He might as well die trying to fix whatever happened here. He hated to admit it, but he appreciated Cassandra’s help in getting back up on his feet again, holding him steady with an arm… and he would absolutely refuse to admit that he had leaned into the touch, much to his captor’s confusion. Still, she hadn’t pulled away; if she had, he probably would’ve stumbled again.

“The people have decided your guilt,” she said as she led him through the crowd of people who watched them pass, looking on with accusatory gazes. “They need it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between mages and templars.”

He nodded as she led him to a path that led out of the small village. That much had sounded familiar. He remembered being sent to spy on the Conclave for that… but he wasn’t sure that he should actually share that information. He opted to continue listening to her, instead, as they approached a gate that led to a bridge.

“She brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead.” The gate doors opened as they passed. “We lash out, like the sky. But we must think beyond ourselves, as she did. Until the Breach is sealed.” She brought them to a stop, before letting go of Revas, who managed to remain standing steady. “There will be a trial. I can promise no more. Now come. It is not far.”

“Where are you taking me?” He continued to follow her down the bridge, staying as close as he could. “This doesn’t seem like the way to the Breach.”

“Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach.”

He gave a brief nod. That made enough sense… though he didn’t like the idea of there being more rifts in the general area. Doing his best to avoid limping, he followed her out of the next gate, trying to inconspicuously press a hand down against his now-grumbling stomach. Fuck, a selfish part of him wished that they had just killed him, instead. They passed in silence, aside from a group of soldiers fleeing from the valley they were heading into.

“Maker, it’s the end of the world!”

He’d barely had time to process the words when there was another crack of verdant lightning, forcing him back down on his knees again; this time, he’d managed to go down silently, biting back his pain. Cassandra was quick to return to his side, helping him back up, holding his shoulders with her hands. “The pulses are coming faster now,” she noted, doing her best to give a comforting pat before turning to lead the way again. “The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face.”

“How  _ did  _ I survive the blast?” He felt miserable. How could he have been the sole survivor when he felt so godsdamned  _ awful _ ?

Cassandra paused. “They say you… stepped out of a rift, and then fell unconscious. They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was. Everything farther in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I suppose you’ll see, soon enough.”

“I can’t believe I’m actually a demon,” Revas quipped dryly. Cassandra shot him a look, and he couldn’t resist giving a lightly amused snort.

They had barely progressed onto the next bridge when something more like a green meteorite slammed into the bridge, the stones crumbling underneath their feet. Neither had made a graceful landing on the ice; Cassandra was quicker to push herself up, however, as demons began to form out of a pool of darkness that had formed closeby. “Stay behind me!” She commanded as Revas pushed himself up, just in time to notice that another demon was forming just behind her.

He faltered, weaponless; glancing around frantically, he spotted a conveniently abandoned staff, which he rushed back to grab. Testing the weighting of the staff by spinning it, he felt himself grow more at ease, being back in his element.

If nothing else, he could still cast spells with the same ease a seasoned warrior swung her sword.

Still, he needed space between himself and this shade. He cast a burst of flames to send the shade packing, where it would instead focus on the one warrior here who  _ didn’t  _ have fire magic, before firing arcane bolts of ice in its direction. He and Cassandra took down their respective demons at the same time, shade finally freezing and crumbling to pieces as Cassandra cut her own in half.

“It’s over,” he breathed out as he approached, though Cassandra was quick to point her sword at him.

“Drop your weapon.  _ Now _ .”

“Do you really think I need a staff to be dangerous?” He shot back, meeting her glare with one of his own.

“Is that supposed to reassure me?”

“I haven’t used my magic on you yet, have I?”

Neither refused to back down for a few moments, before Cassandra finally sighed and sheathed her weapon. “You’re right. You don’t need a staff, but you should have one. I cannot protect you.”

With a relieved sigh of his own, Revas planted the end of the staff into the ice to keep him up right. She paused, before adding on, “I should remember that you agreed to come willingly.” Coming closer, she held out a bundle of glass vials, filled with a bubbling red liquid. “Take these potions. Maker knows what we will face.”

He took the bundle, clipping it to his belt. “Thank you,” he said, earnestly. “Where are all your soldiers?”

“At the forward camp, or fighting. We are on our own, for now.”

Revas didn’t know if he should feel relieved or not by that. While adrenaline was quickly kicking in to keep him fighting, he wasn’t sure how long that would last, and there was no guarantee that he and Cassandra could keep cutting down demons forever, even if she said there was a rift nearby. At least with a staff to keep him steady, he could match her pace.

From there on out, he kept his attacks as conservative as he could, trying to hang back outside of the range of the demons that waylaid them on their path towards the rift. Even if it had only been a few minutes, the journey felt like it was taking much longer than that; at least the demons were helping him keep his guard up.

Finally, as they hit the second set of stairs, his ears pricked at the sound of fighting -- other people fighting.

It seemed Cassandra had picked up on it, too. “We’re getting close to the rift. You can hear the fighting.”

“Who’s fighting?”

“You’ll see soon. We must help them.”

His knees wavered as they climbed the stairs, but he kept himself up right as they went. His eyes landed on the sight of a smaller, crystalline rift, hanging open in the air as more demons fell through. Amidst the fighting were a blonde dwarf wielding a crossbow that Revas swore looked familiar, as well as a shorter, bald elf with no markings on his face. There wasn’t time to linger on either, however; he fell into the fray, digging his staff into the ground as one of his ankles rolled, and pushed himself further, sending out bolts of lightning that jumped from demon to demon. He followed Cassandra into the battle as some of the demons were cut down. Getting closer to the rift, he held out a hand, pulling it back into a fist, as though he were pulling the magic out of the dangerous spirits surrounding them.

It had worked; a great number of them simply dissipated, and then he felt someone else take his hand. “Quickly! Before more come through!” The offending elf - the shorter, bald elf - instinctively pulled him a bit closer, holding his hand out to the rift, and the strangest sensation of unstable magic rushed into him. The rift sealed shut, disappearing before them. Revas was quick to force the other to release his hand, holding it close to his chest.

“What did you  _ do? _ ” He asked incredulously, blue-hazel eyes wide with both wonder and suspicion.

“ _ I _ did nothing,” the bare-faced elf explained with a gesture and a wry smile. “The credit is yours.”

“ _ I _ closed that thing?” Revas inspected the palm of his hand, and sure enough, the mark was no longer open and sparking to the same degree it had been. “How?”

“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake -- and it seems I was correct.”

“Meaning it could also close the Breach itself,” Cassandra added.

“Possibly.” The elf continued to hold his gaze on Revas. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

No. No, he hadn’t signed up for this. He shook his head, rubbing a thumb over his hand, before turning his head to listen to the owner of a new voice, smooth and bright like whiskey.

“Good to know!” Ah, it was the dwarf that looked vaguely familiar, who was toying with his own gloves. “Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.” He walked towards the group with a relaxed smile, before introducing himself. “Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcome tagalong.” That was punctuated with a wink in Cassandra’s direction, who rolled her eyes in response.

Revas looked him over, ears perking at the name with recognition. “Varric Tethras? You mean, like, the author?” He cleared his throat, awkwardly, trying to dial back his excitement. “And, um, of course, friend of the Champion of Kirkwall. But, I-I-I have some of your books, I  _ love  _ your shit!” His cheeks flushed a darker shade of warm brown as he tried desperately to act like a normal person. “I-I-I mean, it’s very nice to meet you.”

The shorter elf behind him gave a quiet laugh. “You may reconsider that stance, in time.”

“Nope,” Revas replied bluntly. “I will not. This has been the best part of my day so far.”

Varric seemed to take the compliment well, at least. He just sent a smirk the other elf’s way. “Aww, c’mon, Chuckles. I’m sure we’ll become great friends in the valley.”

“Absolutely not,” Cassandra cut in. “Your help is appreciated, Varric, but--”

“Have you been in the valley, Seeker? Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.”

With a disgusted noise, Cassandra turned away. Revas glanced to his other side, where the other elf was approaching him. “My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I’m pleased to see you still live.” Revas relaxed his shoulders, a little bit; his tone was friendly enough, at least, even if he was still sore over having his wrist be grabbed just moments before.

“He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept,’”, Varric translated.

_ I’m pretty sure it’s not going to be the mark that kills me, first _ , Revas thought, but chose to keep those thoughts to himself. Tilting his head slightly, he said to Solas, “You seem to know a great deal about all of this.”

“Like you, Solas is an apostate,” Cassandra explained.

“Technically, all mages are apostates now, Cassandra,” Solas smoothly retorted. He turned his attention back to Revas. “My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I could give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed, regardless of origin.”

“That’s a smart attitude,” Revas replied with a nod.

“Merely a sensible one, although sense appears to be in short supply right now.” While Solas turned his attention to Cassandra, Revas quietly studied the wolf mandible that hung from Solas’s neck. “Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine  _ any  _ mage having such power.”

“I’ll have you know I’m a fantastic First,” Revas protested, before blushing again and fidgeting. “Er. I suppose I’m not helping my case, here.”

“You’re not.” Cassandra spoke bluntly, before giving a nod. “But understood. We must get to the forward camp quickly.”

Solas and Cassandra were the first to turn and continue on their path; Revas lagged slightly behind, while Varric joked, “Well… Bianca’s excited!”

Revas gave a breathless laugh, and followed behind the trio as they proceeded over a mess of broken wood and down the frozen riverbank. Cassandra had taken the lead, while he had taken up the rear; between them were Varric and Solas, though now it was Solas’s turn to slow his pace to study Revas. Revas had to actively resist the urge to lean away, instead staring right back at Solas, doing his best to act like he felt perfectly fine.

“You are Dalish, but clearly away from the rest of your clan.” If this was Solas’s idea of small-talk, he wasn’t entirely sure that he was wild about it. “Did they send you here?”

He hesitated, before deciding that lying would, at best, do nothing for him, or at worst, incriminate him further. Better to be honest. “Yes. My clan wanted to know what the result of the Conclave would be, because this was something that would affect us, as well.” A little defensively, he added, “It’s not wrong to want to be safe, is it?”

“It isn’t,” Solas agreed, though Revas felt as though there was something being left unsaid that he couldn’t pick up on.

Uncertain as to whether or not what was being left unsaid was good or bad, he continued, “We’re of the same people, Solas.”

“The Dalish I met felt… differently on the subject.” He hated that he couldn’t read the tone. Maybe it was just because he struggled to focus, but…

Varric’s voice broke the awkward silence. “Can’t you two just play nice for once?”

“I  _ am  _ playing nice,” Revas responded, a little petulantly.

The silence didn’t last long, however, as they finally finished following the bank down to the frozen over river. Solas was the first to point out the demons, with Varric chiming in with a, “Glad you brought me now, seeker?”

He would admit that the fights felt significantly less intimidating now that there were four of them; Revas remained close to Varric and Solas, the latter summoning up protective green barriers as the former loosed a bolt at a demon in the distance. Revas slammed his staff hard into the demon who had decided to attack the three of them directly, the metal tip of the crook of his staff burning the demon and sending it away.

The fight had gone a lot faster, this time; now an even match for the number of demons that fell in each group, it was much easier to divide and conquer.

Without meaning to, Revas groaned at the sight of another flight of stairs; it was a short enough one, thankfully, and climbed up easily. Gods, he wanted a rest… but that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon.

“So…” It was Varric’s turn to ask questions, now. “ _ Are _ you innocent?”

“I…” Revas wanted to argue, to say that he wasn’t, but… “I don’t remember what happened. I… know I couldn’t do this, though.”

“That’ll get you every time.” He was a little surprised by the light tone of Varric’s voice. “Should’ve spun a story.”

“That’s what  _ you  _ would’ve done,” Cassandra said with no small amount of distaste in her voice, as they climbed the next set of stairs.

“It’s more believable, and less prone to result in premature execution.”

“Until people find out you’ve lied, and then decide they can’t trust you on anything you say,” Revas replied with a sigh. “Not that I don’t see how it could help, but it’d probably just end up biting me in the ass.”

Varric frowned. “Still only works if people believe you in the first place.”

Revas had meant to respond - really! - but instead fell silent, leaning a bit more heavily on his staff and crossing his left arm across his chest. It seemed everyone had run out of questions, at least, which worked for him. He tried his best to work his face into a scowl, however, whenever Solas or Varric shot him none-too-subtle yet concerned glances in his direction.

His grip tightened on his staff as they approached the sound of more fighting; were they finally reaching the forward camp?

“I hope Leliana made it through all of this,” Cassandra said, more to herself than anyone in particular.

“She’s resourceful, Seeker,” Varric responded, finally tearing his attention away from Revas.

“We will see for ourselves at the forward camp,” Solas said with a sense of finality. “We are almost there. It sounds as though another rift has opened nearby.”

Revas agreed that it certainly sounded like it; as the three in front of him rushed up the stairs, he forced himself to stay close. Indeed, at the top of the hill, at the gates to yet another bridge, stood a rift, demons having already been unleashed and attacking the soldiers who had been guarding the point.

“They keep coming!” Shouted one of the soldiers. “Help us!”

They didn’t have to be told twice; the four of them focused first on the demons swarming the guards, pulling the spirits away from him. Down the demon went, and they decided their attentions again to take down the rest, Solas placing up more barriers to protect them from further harm. Revas couldn’t help but be relieved that the wraiths, at least, were easy to take down; a few bolts of magic, and they were quick to dissipate. The shades were more stubborn, but removing the weaker enemies had made the fight less annoying.

“Hurry,” Solas shouted as the fighting had come to a slight lull. “Use the mark, before more come!”

Trying to remember the feeling, Revas threw his left hand up in the air, drawing the energy into his mark once again. He shuddered at the feeling, but just like before, the rift had disappeared.

“The rift is gone!” Cassandra informed the soldiers. “Open the gate!”

“Right away, Lady Cassandra!”

“We are clear for the moment,” Solas said as the soldiers worked on opening the gate. Stopping by Revas, he said, “Well done.”

“Whatever that thing on your hand is, it’s useful!” Varric added.

Revas gave a shy smile, laughing slightly as he fidgeted with the palm of his hand, before following Cassandra down the bridge. It seemed like there was an argument occurring further down ahead.

“We must prepare the soldiers!” Leliana’s voice. He slowed his pace to eavesdrop.

“We will do no such thing!” An unfamiliar voice… a man’s voice. Squinting, he could spot Leliana with someone in Chantry robes. Some remaining part of the clergy, perhaps?

“The prisoner must get to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. It is our only chance!”

“You have already caused enough trouble without resorting to this exercise in futility!”

“ _ I _ have caused trouble?”

“You, Cassandra, the Most Holy-- haven’t you all done enough already?!”

“You are not in command here!”

“Enough! I will not have it!” The man in the gods-awful Chantry robes looked up, looking none too pleased. “Ah, here they come.”

Leliana’s expression softened as they approached, and she took a few steps forward. “Good, you made it. Chancellor Roderick, this is--”

“I  _ know  _ who he is,” the chancellor interrupted scathingly. “As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this prisoner to Val Royeaux to face execution!”

Revas stared at him blandly, raising his eyebrows slightly with a frown. That was a threat that didn’t even bother him anymore. He was surprised more by Cassandra pointing at the man with a glare.

“‘Order me’? You are a glorified clerk. A bureaucrat!”

“And you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!”

Leliana scowled. “We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know.”

“Justinia is dead!” Roderick shot back. “We must elect a replacement, and obey  _ her  _ orders on the matter!”

Revas pinched the bridge of his nose for a few moments before snapping, “Isn’t the Breach the more pressing issue right now?”

“ _ You _ brought this on us in the first place!” Revas was fairly certain that the man was becoming as red as a tomato.

“You know what,” Revas spat, “I-I-If you want to kill me so bad, you can do it  _ after  _ we attempt to close the Breach! Whatever happens after that, you can kill me, and that is a  _ promise _ !”

Though Leliana and Cassandra exchanged uncertain looks, this seemed to be good enough for Roderick, who gave a frustrated sigh and turned his attentions back to Cassandra. “Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless.”

“We can stop this before it’s too late.”

“How? You won’t survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers.”

“We must get to the temple. It’s the quickest route.”

“But not the safest,” Leliana interrupted. “Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains.”

Revas followed Leliana’s gesture to the mountains, and felt himself wither a little inside. Not more climbing. Even if it was the safer path…

“We lost contact with an entire squad on that path,” Cassandra said. “It is too risky.”

“Listen to me.” Roderick now. “Abandon this now, before more lives are lost!”

The Breach chose that moment to expand a little more, crackling and sparking violently; it took all of Revas’s willpower to stay upright, grabbing at his wrist and managing to keep himself from whimpering. He pulled his left hand back towards himself, hugging it as he winced. The argument stopped in its tracks, and Cassandra turned to him, looking with veiled concern. “How do  _ you  _ think we should proceed?”

He didn’t have the energy to question why they were asking his opinion on the matter. “Use the mountain path.  _ Work  _ together. You all know what’s at stake, don’t you?” That had maybe come out a bit harsher than he’d intended, but it was getting increasingly more difficult to keep himself together.

Cassandra couldn’t hide her lips twitching downwards in disapproval. “Leliana, bring everyone left in the valley.  _ Everyone _ .”

Towards the mountains they went, though not before Roderick called after them, “On your head be the consequences, Seeker.”

xxx

The trek itself had been uneventful enough that Revas could feel the adrenaline rush seep away for the time being, having to fight once more to keep himself steady going up the mountain. He was glad he wasn’t the one leading; rather, he was the one lagging behind, breathing a bit more heavily as Varric looked back to beckon at him, before the dwarf’s expression knitted together with concern. Slowing down, he fell in line with Revas’s pace, supporting his left side, which he had been favoring.

Even if some part of him appreciated the concern, Revas really wished that Varric hadn’t tried to be so nice.

For one, all he could focus on now was the fact that the side of the dwarf’s head was practically pressed up against his ribs as Varric kept him steady and that he had an arm wrapped around him to keep him from falling behind. Worse still was that he could feel his long-since empty stomach grind against itself, looking for anything to fuel the last half hour and finding nothing but bile and acid, cramping and clenching hard enough that he couldn’t keep himself from giving a quiet pained groan.

Before he could pass off that groan as being spurred on by the pain in his hand, his stomach loudly echoed the same groan before devolving into grumbling and growling that sounded far more like a storm than normal hunger pangs. He cringed and fruitlessly tried to hide any sign that it could’ve been from him, studying his staff like it was the most interesting thing on the mountainside, and refusing to look anywhere near his closest companion. In any other situation, he would’ve blown it off, having grown long used to the frequent, noisy complaints -- Gods, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been able to eat, as he could’ve been out cold as their prisoner for who knows how long -- but around strangers? Strangers that probably wanted him dead, no less?

Well, frankly, he wished a rift would open up right then and there to swallow him up.

Especially when he noticed Solas’s ears twitch.

So he didn’t know even remotely how to respond when he felt Varric’s thumb rub up and down his right side in what he figured was meant to be a comforting gesture, briefly making eye contact long enough to spot the obvious concern in the dwarf’s golden gaze.

“It shouldn’t be much longer ‘til we reach the Breach,” Varric said, keeping his voice low for Revas’s benefit. “We’ll get something in you soon, Blue Jay.”

“I’m fine,” Revas muttered as his face flushed a darker tan, desperately trying to ignore his stomach’s more insistent growling and pleading at the thought of food. “Funny that you think I’ll survive the Breach.”

“You survived it once, right? And you’ve made it this far.” He begrudgingly had to admit that Varric had a point, there. “I think you’ll survive it.”

Thankfully, Revas didn’t have to think of a way to respond, as his boots finally knocked on snow-covered boards, though his ears flattened noticeably upon noticing that now they had to contend with ladders.

“Fucking ladders,” he muttered to himself, much to Varric’s amusement.

“Yeah, I have to admit, I wondered why you chose to go this way.”

“Well--” He ducked his head. “I thought maybe we could find the lost squad. I wasn’t… thinking about the rest.”

There was a flicker in Varric’s expression that he couldn’t -- or didn’t -- want to read. At least their local exposition warrior, Cassandra, was more than happy to change the topic. “The tunnel should be just ahead,” she announced. “The path to the temple lies just beyond it.”

Up the ladders they climbed, all of them far too long for Revas’s liking. It wasn’t just that he was quickly running out of energy, but he wasn’t used to being this high up, either; he managed to keep himself from looking behind him, but the knowledge that they were climbing this mountain was still pushing him just beyond his comfort zone.

“What manner of tunnel is this?” Solas asked, raising his voice to be heard above the wind. “A mine?”

“Part of an old mining complex. These mountains are full of such paths.”

“And your missing soldiers are in there somewhere?” Varric asked.

“Along with whatever has detained them,” Solas responded.

“We shall see soon enough,” Cassandra said, just as they finally hit the top of the mess of stairs and ladders. She was patient enough to wait for the rest of them to join her at the top, and Revas was quick to lean against the walls of the cliff to catch his breath. He was relieved that they were willing to grant him this much.

“I’m sorry,” Revas said quietly, more than a little embarrassed that he was taking this break. If any of them were judging him for it, they were doing a damn convincing job of hiding it; after a few moments, he pushed himself away from the wall, though he was nowhere near ready to keep going again. “Let’s get going. I-I doubt we have much time.”

Especially if the soldiers were still alive… it was better to keep going, rather than waste any more precious time that could save the missing soldiers.

It turned out, however, that there was another shade waiting for them within the halls of the complex, as well as two glowing wraiths. Cassandra rushed ahead with her sword and shield out to confront the shade, while the men held back in the entryway, taking down the wraiths that would doubtlessly focus on Cassandra, as she was the closest. They were falling into a steady rhythm, now, already getting used to the techniques of the people around them; Solas casting defensively while Revas took the offense, Varric providing cover fire as Cassandra kept their enemies’ attention, demanding that they focus on her blows.

The shade fell quickly, and they proceeded into the tunnel. Revas glanced around; the dim, candle-lit tunnels seemed fancier than a mere mining complex, if you asked him. “Candles… these seem recently lit,” he observed. “At least, you’d think they would’ve burned through the wick if they’d been lit earlier, right?”

His eyes were quick to adjust though, and as he glanced to the side, he could see the light reflecting off of Solas’ and Varric’s pupils. Cassandra was the only one who would struggle here, unless there was more light further down.

As they proceeded through the tunnel, Varric disappeared into a room before returning with a shield and a small bag of gold; the shield, he passed off to Cassandra, who looked it over appraisingly before changing her original shield for this winged one. Revas himself had checked a bag as they passed, finding a few stalks of elfroot; he quickly tucked those into a satchel sitting on his hip, just in case they’d need the painkilling qualities of the plant. He had definitely been considering it, at any rate, but ultimately decided against it; someone else could need it more.

It wasn’t long before they came out through the other end of the tunnel, three corpses collapsed on the top of the stairway. Varric gave a resigned sigh. “Guess we found the soldiers…”

“That cannot be all of them,” Cassandra replied, and Revas could tell she was trying to convince herself.

“So the others could be holed up ahead?” Varric asked, a little skeptical.

“Our priority must be the Breach,” Solas said. “Unless we seal it soon, no one is safe.”

“I’m leaving  _ that  _ to our elven friend here.”

Revas gave a nervous snort. “We should still look though, shouldn’t we? We’re close enough to the Breach that it wouldn’t hurt to look. I’d hate to pass by them and just… not even notice.”

Cassandra seemed to appreciate the notion, but stayed silent; they traversed down the mountain path quietly, glancing from side to side looking for signs of more demons, before Revas’s ears picked up on another crackle of lightning, followed by another painful twinge in his hand.

Wordlessly, he picked up the pace, using his staff to keep him steady as they went. He caught up to Cassandra, who had spotted the rift as well, and the group rushed towards the rift.

An unfamiliar voice called out, “Lady Cassandra!”

“Lieutenant!” Back into the fray Cassandra threw herself, jabbing her sword through another demon. “You’re alive!”

“Just barely.”

There was no more time to speak; with reinforcements, the rest of the demons had gone down easily, but the rift still crackled, spitting out crystals that slammed into the ground, before summoning up tall, reptilian looking demons, curled tails and spindly limbs that slashed with claws. Revas was fairly certain he recognized them; terror demons. Spindly bastards that could burrow at quick speeds. He slammed the tip of his staff into the ground, spitting out six bolts of ice that froze one of them for a few moments; Cassandra spun and slashed through the demon, causing it to shatter into pieces. All that left was the remaining terror demon, which had leapt and pinned down one of the soldiers. Solas casted a barrier around the soldier, which pushed the demon back long enough for the others to chop a limb off, before a final crossbow bolt to the head caused it to crumble. Rushing from his position, Revas pointed the palm of his left hand at the rift before pulling away, stumbling back as the rift crackled out of existence.

“Sealed, as before,” Solas said as he approached Revas. With a curt nod, he continued, “You are becoming quite proficient at this.”

Revas gave a shy grin as Varric said, “Let’s hope it works on the big one.”

He still wasn’t sure that it would. He fidgeted with his hands as Cassandra helped up the soldiers, who were clutching at their wounds. “Thank the Maker you finally arrived, Lady Cassandra,” she said. “I don’t think we could’ve held out much longer.”

“Thank our prisoner, lieutenant,” Cassandra responded. “He insisted we come this way.”

Oh. It felt weird to be acknowledged for that. “The prisoner?” The lieutenant asked. “Then you…?”

He wasn’t sure what she was asking, but Revas replied with a little bow, “It was worth saving you, if we could.”

“Then you have my sincere gratitude,” She said with a salute, pounding her fist once against her chest.

“The way into the valley is clear for the moment,” Cassandra informed the soldier. “Go, while you still can.”

“At once,” the lieutenant responded, before turning back to her squad. “Quickly, let’s move!”

The squadron disappeared behind them, following the path through the tunnel. Solas walked closer to Revas before stopping, observing the path ahead of them. “The path ahead appears to be clear of demons, as well,” he said, holding his staff with both hands.

“Let’s hurry, before that changes.” Cassandra took the lead again. “Down the ladder; that’s the way to the temple.”

With a little snort, Revas decided to say, “I’m so tired of ladders. These had better be the last.”

Beside him, Varric snickered, patting his side before they followed her down.

It turned out, however, that it was  _ not  _ the last ladder: it was, in fact, the  _ second  _ to last ladder. Revas could forgive that, though. The ladders were easy enough to slide down, though his knees didn’t appreciate the force of landing down onto the ground, twinging slightly as he did. They were down to just one last path now, it seemed.

“So, holes in the fade don’t just  _ accidentally  _ happen, right?” Varric asked.

“If enough magic is brought to bear, it  _ is  _ possible,” Solas replied.

Varric didn’t seem to approve of that answer very much. “But there are easier ways to make things explode.”

“That is true.”

“We will consider  _ how  _ this happened once the immediate danger is passed,” Cassandra said with her typical sense of finality.

The snow eventually gave way to a crater, a mess of stone and ruin surrounding what was clearly the epicenter of the blast. The area seemed to get warmer, still hot with the explosion of magic, flames still licking the air as they approached.

“The Temple of Sacred Ashes,” Solas said in a solemn tone.

“What’s left of it.” Varric was now just as serious.

Cassandra looked back at Revas. “That is where you walked out of the Fade and our soldiers found you. They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was.”

They dropped into the crater, and Revas could feel his heart sink. There stood and kneeled burnt or still burning bodies, barely recognizable, all bones and emaciated flesh, what was left of their expressions twisted into eyes squeezed shut, mouths still open in screams, all trying to cower away from what had clearly been the blast. Morbidly, he considered how the Chantry preferred to cremate their dead…

Surely they had never meant it like this.

He slowed his pace to a walk, feeling as though rushing through this destruction would’ve been disrespectful. As they continued inwards, not all of the bodies continued to remain whole; for some, all that was left of them was a still burning skull, a still lit limb. For each, he thought a prayer to Falon’din; maybe not all of them were elven, or even Dalish, sure, but still… they deserved some kind of prayer, didn’t they?

He did his best to avoid treading on the bodies, though perhaps that was sensible enough; most of them were still on fire, after all. They proceeded down into a crumbled hallway, and turned the corner to face a large, uncovered chamber. Floating right in the middle was another rift, a larger one, just below the eye of the Breach; it crackled sickly, standing above a glowing red vein of… was that lyrium?

“The Breach is a looong way up,” Varric noted quietly as he stared up at the sky.

Revas’s ears twitched as he noticed the sound of marching boots, followed by the softer voice of Leliana.

“You’re here!” Leliana jogged forward as he turned. “Thank the Maker.”

“Leliana, have your men take up positions around the temple,” Cassandra ordered. Leliana nodded before going back to her men to give orders, while Cassandra turned to face Revas. “This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?”

Revas inhaled shakily. “I’ll try, but I don’t know if I can reach that, much less close it.”

“No,” Solas agreed, before gesturing to the rift below. “This rift was the first, and it is the key. Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach.”

“Then let’s find a way down,” said Cassandra. “And be careful.”

It seemed their only path down was to their right; curved walls of ashen rock with glowing green cracks guided their path down, leading them in some sort of spiral. They had scarcely left the hallway before a deep and gravelly disembodied voice boomed across the wreckage of the temple. “Now is the hour of our victory.” They all slowed, looking around for the source of the voice, to find none. “Bring forth the sacrifice.”

“What are we hearing?” Cassandra asked.

“At a guess?” Solas responded. “The person who created the Breach.”

This did nothing to settle Revas’s nerves as they continued down the spiralling path; even if it meant he wasn’t the one responsible, it meant now that there was someone else involved, someone none of them could recognize.

Varric broke the uneasy silence as they walked. “You know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker.”

“I see it, Varric.”

“But what’s it  _ doing  _ here?”

“Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple, corrupted it…” Solas said.

Varric shook his head with a huff. “It’s evil. Whatever you do, don’t touch it.”

The voice was back again. “Keep the sacrifice still.”

This was followed up by a new voice, distorted in a way Revas couldn’t place. “Someone, help me!”

“That is Divine Justinia’s voice!” Cassandra said, eyes wide.

By then, they’d hit the end of the path; the only way to go now was down into the crater proper, and drop they did. Above them, the rift crackled and twitched, new crystals forming in the center as Revas’s own hand crackled. And then, finally, Revas’s own voice could be heard around them.

“What’s going on here?”

“That was your voice,” Cassandra confirmed. “Most Holy called out to you. But…”

The rift gave another crack, before displaying some kind of vision, a shadowy figure holding down a woman in Divine Chantry robes with some kind of magic; to the side, Revas’s own figure could be spotted.

“What’s going on here?” This replica of him asked.

The older woman called out, “Run while you can! Warn them!”

“We have an intruder,” spoke the tall, shadowy figure. “Slay the elf.”

With another blinding crackle, the vision disappeared, giving them little time to process what they had seen.

“You  _ were  _ there!” Cassandra was quick to face Revas. “Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?”

Revas shook his head, taking a step back. “I don’t know! I don’t remember!”

Even if he himself didn’t have an answer, Solas seemed to. “Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place.” It was more information than anyone else had, at the moment. They joined him closer to the rift, as he continued, “This rift is not sealed, but it is closed… albeit temporarily. I believe that with the mark, the rift can be opened, and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will attract attention from the other side.”

“That means demons,” Cassandra called, to inform the troops in their positions. “Stand ready!”

Around them, archers were knocking arrows, while those with swords joined them down below. Leliana also joined them, wielding her own bow and arrows. Cassandra nodded to Revas, who took in a deep breath before pointing his hand at the rift. Somehow, he released enough energy to open the rift, though it opened with such force that it knocked him flat on his ass while a large demon - a Pride demon - came through the rift. The nine-eyed demon roared as it fell to the ground.

“Now!” Cassandra commanded, and a field of arrows came flying down, though it hardly seemed to make a scratch on the demon.

Feeling enveloped by Solas’s protective magic, Revas fell back to put more distance between himself and the pride demon, letting loose bolts of fire magic; it seemed unaffected, however, marching towards one of the soldiers.

“We must strip its defenses!” Cassandra shouted. “Wear it down!”

If normal attacks weren’t going to work here, then it seemed he had only one other option: improvise.

Circling behind the group, Revas approached the rift again, overloading it with enough magic to make it crackle and send out a shockwave; the demon was paralyzed by the shockwave, giving them time to launch more powerful attacks on it without retaliation.

“The demon is vulnerable!” He called out over the chaos. “Hit it, now!”

Pride wouldn’t be stunned for long, however, although it was clearly taking more damage, it broke out of its position, forming a whip of crackling purple lightning, lashing it out at the soldiers surrounding it. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than what they started out with; Revas continued to rain bolts of fire down on it, failing to notice the shade that rammed into his side.

He stumbled with a hiss, turning to slam the tip of his staff into the demon as he tried to put distance between him and it. Backing away, he flung more fire at the shade, this time noticing the second one that was approaching from behind. Wishing his staff had a blade attached, he moved to face them both, focusing his fire on his first assailant before turning his attention to the second. Pounding his staff down, bolts of lightning struck at the shade, though now he was out of mana to continue his assault with anything more than arcane bolts. Revas backed away, caught in the splash zone of another of Solas’s barriers, keeping him confident enough to cast more balls of fire at the shade, who finally fell.

By now, Pride had raised its defenses again, but this time Revas was close enough to overload the rift a second time; demons were nothing if not predictable, and that meant that now they had survived the first thirty heartbeats, they knew most of its tricks.

Though he’d been cornered again by shades. With a grunt, he shoved them away, this time with no barrier to protect him; though the arcane bolts of fire worked, it was still a slow way of killing them, leaving him vulnerable to more wounds despite his efforts. The archers were doing a decent job keeping their fire on the demons though, at least, though by now, the larger demon had recovered from the shockwave this time.

Revas wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep doing this. He disrupted the rift again, this time staying near the rift and focusing his fire on the Pride demon; the sooner they could take it down, the sooner he could seal the rift, the sooner this battle would be over.

He hoped.

The demon was struggling now, black ichor rushing out of its wounds, lashing out harder at the soldiers that surrounded it but unable to get out of the way; with all fire focused on the demon, it fell, and the rift surged open, with no more left to give.

“Now!” Cassandra ordered. “Seal the rift! Do it!”

Revas hardly needed to be told, already pulling the energy into his mark; he was trembling now, needing his other hand gripping his staff to keep him upright. Gritting his teeth, he focused all his attention on sapping the rift of its magic, before suddenly the rift sealed shut, the closure sending a bolt of energy up into the Breach.

He barely registered the crackle and the flash of light before collapsing, vision quickly turning black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally break away from script a little bit; I wish we could start shit with some of the background NPCs. Bioware, let me fight the Chantry in a passive aggressive way.

Revas stirred with a quiet groan, not daring to push himself up into a sitting position just yet, even if the small of his back ached like no other. He didn’t think it possible, but he was pretty sure he had felt worse than the last time he woke up. His shoulders stung with any attempt to move them, and his arms fared no better; though he was tempted to go right back to sleep, knowing that if nothing else, he was somewhere more comfortable than he had ever been in a long time, he knew the gnawing void in his middle would continue to give him trouble and keep him from sleeping. At least it was quiet, for now; that was a small mercy.

If this was another prison, it was, at the very least, a warm and comfortable prison that he had no problems being kept in. The candles and furs that lined the cabin reminded him of home, though the cage closest to the door left several somethings to be desired. It was too strange to Revas, at least, who finally forced himself up into a sitting position.

As he sat up, he made eye contact with an elven woman he didn’t recognize, who was carrying a box; his ears flattened when she startled, dropping the box. “Oh--! I didn’t know you were awake, I swear!”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Revas said, still feeling a little groggy but desperate to put the woman at ease. “I only--”

She dropped to her knees into what Revas could only describe as the most prostrate bow of both fear and reverence -- but most likely fear. She was now avoiding eye contact. “I beg your forgiveness and your blessing. I am but a humble servant.”

Oh, Revas really didn’t like that. Before he could say anything, she continued on, “You’re back in Haven, my lord. They say you saved us. The Breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand.” He looked down at his left palm, this time allowing it to spark; it stung, but it was bearable. It did seem to be the same size as it was when… when… he furrowed his eyebrows, trying to think. When he collapsed, he supposed. “It’s all anyone has talked about for the last three days.”

Three days? Creators, no wonder he felt like dogshit. “They’re… happy with me?” He asked, more incredulous than anything.

“I-I’m only saying what I heard. I-I didn’t mean anything by it,” she replied, sounding even more nervous, adding onto his guilt. She did finally stand up, though she was backing away towards the door. “I’m sure Lady Cassandra would want to know you’ve wakened. She said, ‘at once’.”

He slowly pushed himself out of bed, trying his best to hunch over in a way that wouldn’t seem threatening, though he was certain that was a fruitless endeavor. “And… where is she?”

“In the Chantry,” the mousy-looking woman replied. “With the lord chancellor. ‘At once’, she said.”

And with that, the woman had rushed out the door, leaving it to close shut behind her. Revas frowned to himself, fidgeting with his hands; well, that little interaction had gone just swimmingly. He’d never wanted to come across as so frightening and threatening. Not to someone like her, at any rate; she didn’t deserve to feel that kind of fear, and yet… ugh. He felt sick to his stomach. Now, in terms of social hierarchy, he sat somewhere along the same lines as a human noble. At least, that’s how it felt, but he knew that in practice, that definitely would be nowhere near the case.

He had privacy now, though. He looked down at himself, noting the new clothes. They were an attractive dark blue, but uncomfortably form fitting; it seemed to accentuate every sharp angle of his body, and did absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he might as well have been skin and bones. It hugged him so tightly that it revealed to all who looked upon him that he most certainly had not had a decent meal in four years, highlighting his gaunt midsection. Revas frowned; it wasn’t like the mage-templar war had been kind to anyone, but… well, he did not envy whichever sorry soul who’d had the displeasure of undressing him.

On second thought, he decided it was entirely understandable for the woman to be afraid of him. He’d be pretty terrified, too, if he had to talk to someone who looked as pitiful as he did.

Well, this just wasn’t going to do. He wasn’t going out like this; the last thing he needed was to put his sorry state on display. Revas found his mercenary outfit his clan had provided for him on the table at the foot of the bed, next to an empty mug and a similarly empty bottle. He supposed it was too much to hope that there would be anything in there to drink… it probably wouldn’t have been wise, anyway. With his luck, consuming anything would simply wake up his stomach enough for it to start up its usual desperate begging and pleading. No, the longer he could keep his guts quiet, the better.

He was grateful for the bagginess of his mercenary coat, which at least granted him the illusion of looking less like he was about to keel over, even if it couldn’t hide that his hands were lightly shaking. Besides, there were enough layers to keep him warm out here on the mountainside; he knew southern Ferelden could be cold, but he never knew it could get this cold. With a little curiosity, he checked the chest by the raven cage, spotting what looked like… qunari armor? Insofar as you could call it armor, anyway; he looked over the antaam-saar, immediately noted how it would put his midriff on display, and promptly closed the chest. No, absolutely not. Who on earth even thought that was a good idea? Even for a healthy person, that was a surefire way to become hypothermic in the Frostback mountains. Someone in this village had a strange sense of humor, that was for sure.

He would, however, switch out his staff for the one that was leaning against the wall, topped with a silver-coloured dragon, with wings spread out. What could he say? It was a cool looking staff!

Now he considered himself presentable. Not that he expected anyone to be looking out for him; he’d only just woken up, and he doubted he would be that interesting of a sight.

Revas opened the door, stepped outside, and was immediately proven wrong.

His eyebrows shot up, and his lips immediately pulled back into a slight grimace; it was like the entire village had turned up to see him. Villagers and soldiers alike lined the sides of the path, looking at him with awe and saluting with their fist over their heart. Oh, he absolutely hated this. He resisted the urge to shrink down, and forced himself to keep a straight posture, though he folded his arms tightly across his chest.

As he passed, he couldn’t help but overhear the rumblings of the crowd.

“That’s him. That’s the Herald of Andraste. They said when he came out of the Fade, Andraste herself was watching over him.”

“Hush! We shouldn’t disturb him.”

“Why did Lady Cassandra have him in chains? I thought Seekers knew everything.”

“It’s complicated. We were all frightened after the explosion at the Conclave.”

“It isn’t complicated. Andraste herself blessed him.”

To him, a man said, “Maker be with you.”

The woman beside him added, “Blessings upon you, Herald of Andraste.”

Revas’s ears flattened. No, no, this was wrong. He wasn’t anyone’s Herald, and certainly not Andraste’s. He respected her and all, but part of the Chantry he was not. Still, it wouldn’t do any good to argue. He just glanced down and continued along the path, where only more people waited for him.

“That’s him! He stopped the Breach from getting any bigger.”

“I heard he was supposed to close the Breach entirely. Still, it’s more than anyone else has done. Demons would’ve had us, otherwise.”

“Still a lot of rifts left all over. Little cracks in the sky.”

“He can seal those, though-- the Herald of Andraste.”

“Someone had better. You won’t seal those rifts with the Chant of Light.”

“Walk safely, Herald of Andraste.”

“Good luck closing those rifts.”

He kept to the right of the road, doing his best to studiously ignore the tavern. Gods, something in the air smelled good… what he wouldn’t give to duck in and see what. No, no, stay focused, if he went in, he’d probably just be accosted by even more people, and it’d be awkward for everyone. He pressed his arms harder against his midsection, willing his cramping organs to stay quiet. Revas quickly looked away from the group of people who were bowing to him, unsure if acknowledging them or not would be the wiser thing to do; at least if he pretended he couldn’t see them, he wouldn’t have to deal with saying anything at all.

Finally, he was nearing the Chantry, where it seemed most of the Chantry brothers and sisters were standing and talking amongst themselves.

“Chancellor Roderick says that the Chantry wants nothing to do with us.”

“That’s not Chancellor Roderick’s decision, Sister.”

“Most of the Grand Clerics died at the Conclave. Who will lead us now?”

“Andraste didn’t have Grand Clerics telling her what to do, and she managed nonetheless.”

“You expect us to be like Andraste?”

“Someone must.”

“Go in peace, Herald of Andraste.”

“Maker watch over you.”

Revas was relieved to finally get within the Chantry, a thought he never expected to have. At least inside the halls, there was no one else there to gawk at him. He allowed himself to relax his posture a bit and take in the silence, and--

Wait, that wasn’t silence. He just hadn’t walked far enough down the hallway to pick up on the argument that was occurring just at the end of the hallway, behind closed doors. Gods damn it.

Of course, the first voice that could be heard was that of Chancellor Roderick’s. Who else could it be? The man had had very little to say that was pleasant about him. “Have you gone completely mad?! He should be taken to Val Royeaux immediately, to be tried by whomever becomes Divine!”

“I do not believe he is guilty,” he could hear Cassandra respond.

“The elf failed, Seeker. The Breach is still in the sky. For all you know, he intended it this way!”

“I do not believe that.” At least someone didn’t believe that!

“That is not for you to decide. Your duty is to serve the Chantry.”

“My duty is to serve the principles on which the Chantry was founded, Chancellor. As is yours.”

With a sigh, Revas pushed open the door, already knowing exactly what sort of response to expect as he walked in.

“Chain him!” Chancellor Roderick ordered the guards, pointing at him. “I want him prepared for travel to the capital for trial.”

“Disregard that, and leave us,” Cassandra told the guards, who saluted, turned on their heel, and marched down the hallway.

“You walk a dangerous line, Seeker.”

“The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it.”

“On your head be the consequences, Chancellor,” Revas said with a tired grin. The Chancellor scowled, whereas Cassandra had to fight back a laugh, instead letting only the corners of her lips twitch upwards. Tone turning more serious, he continued, “Anyway, I did everything I could to close the Breach. It almost killed me.”

“Yet you live,” Roderick replied with a sneer. “A convenient result, insofar as you’re concerned.”

“Have a care, Chancellor,” Cassandra said. “The Breach is not the only threat we face.”

Beside her, Leliana said, “Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others…” And then, she levelled her gaze directly at Chancellor Roderick. “Or have allies who yet live.”

“I am a suspect?!”

Revas, indulging in the drama, looked on with an open-mouthed grin.

“You, and many others.”

“But not the prisoner.” Revas quickly feigned an innocent look when Roderick turned his gaze to him, like he hadn’t just watched that little exchange with unadulterated, sadistic glee.

“I heard the voices in the temple,” Cassandra replied. “The Divine called to him for help.”

“So his survival, that thing on his hand -- all a coincidence?”

“Providence.” Revas couldn’t keep his expression from falling. “The Maker sent him to us in our darkest hour.”

“You realize I’m an elf, right?” Revas interrupted, gesturing to his face. “A Dalish elf?”

“I have not forgotten,” Cassandra said with a slight frown. “No matter what you are, or what you believe, you are exactly what we needed when we needed it.”

He furrowed his brows. “That’s not the part I’m taking issue with. I can accept that part. Just don’t… attribute this to your Maker.”

Cassandra was less than pleased with that request, turning to rifle through a desk. Leliana took the opportunity to speak, instead. “The Breach remains, and your mark is still our only hope of closing it.”

“That is not for you to decide,” Roderick said.

Slamming a thick book down on the table, Cassandra returned with, “You know what this is, Chancellor. A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn.” While Revas focused on how bizarre it was that a book declaring something so simple could be made up of so many pages, the Seeker closed in on Roderick. “We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order. With or without your approval.”

The chancellor looked at Cassandra, then Revas, then Leliana, then back at Cassandra, expression becoming unreadable - but presumably frustrated - and stalked out of the room.

“This is the Divine’s directive,” Leliana said, resting her hand on the book affectionately. “Rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos.” She sobered. “We aren’t ready. We have no numbers, no leader, and now, no Chantry support.”

“But we have no choice. We must act now,” Cassandra replied, turning to look at Revas, and adding, “With you at our side.”

“What is ‘the Inquisition of old’, exactly?” Revas asked, running his fingers through his hair. He thought he might as well ask before he… well, now that he thought of it, he definitely didn’t have a choice in the matter. What was he going to do, say no? Not that he’d considered saying no, or anything.

“It preceded the Chantry,” Leliana explained. “People who banded together to bring order to a world gone mad.”

“After, they laid down their banner and formed the Templar order,” Cassandra added, making Revas wish very much that she had just let Leliana explain. Did she really think telling him the last Inquisition formed the Templar order would comfort him any? “But the templars have lost their way. We need those who can do what must be done, united under a single banner once more.”

Revas sighed. “If you’re truly trying to restore order…”

“That is the plan,” Leliana confirmed.

“Help us fix this, before it is too late,” Cassandra said, holding a hand out to him.

He stared at her hand for a moment before taking it, doing his best attempt at a curt shake. He’s supposed to do it like this, right? Damn it, his clan never prepared him to have social skills that involved handshaking. “I will, if I can.” He let go of her hand, hands immediately going up to toy with his scarf, before tentatively asking, “Is there anything else we need to handle, or…”

Cassandra considered this for a moment, before nodding her head. “You should meet our commander and our ambassador. You’ll be working closely with them.”

Ah. He shouldn’t have asked. Revas had really been hoping that there was nothing else and had really only asked just to be polite. He couldn’t hide his ears flattening to point outward in straight lines, as opposed to raised like before. “Right, that’s a good idea,” he responded, trying desperately to keep the exhaustion and frustration out of his voice. He was fairly certain he was being successful on that front. At the very least, he hadn’t made it terribly obvious that he was being quickly consumed by the hollow frustration that was bubbling up in his chest that was urging him to have a meltdown on the spot, which was good enough for him.

Cassandra returned not too long after, with a tall, curly-haired blonde man who looked like an incredibly shaggy lion and a shorter, beautiful woman, olive with beauty marks and admittedly gaudy but still surprisingly pleasant finery in tow. They gathered around the table, Leliana laying a map of Thedas down on top of it as they did.

“May I present Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition’s forces,” Cassandra said, turning slightly to the weary man.

“Such as they are,” Cullen said dryly. “We lost many soldiers in the valley, and I fear many more before this is through.”

Before he could get out an apology, Cassandra then gestured to the shorter woman. “And this is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat.”

Josephine smiled at Revas, giving an incredibly shallow bow; fair enough, as she was holding some kind of clipboard with a candle affixed to it. “Andaran atish’an,” she greeted.

His eyebrows shot up. “You speak elvhen?”

“You just heard the entirety of it, I’m afraid.”

“Still, that’s a fair bit more than most people care to know.” He had to admit, it felt very nice to have someone acknowledge that he wasn’t just some pointy-eared human. With a bow, he said, “Mar enaste lan em lath’in’iseth. Your grace warms my heart.”

He spotted Cassandra cracking a slight smile, most likely pleased that Revas was getting along with someone. “And of course you know Sister Leliana.”

“My position here involves a degree of…” Leliana trailed off, searching for the right words.

“She is our spymaster,” Cassandra put simply.

“Yes,” Leliana said, the word coming out more like an exasperated sigh. “Tactfully put, Cassandra.”

“It’s nice to meet you all!” Revas said, feeling much more earnest about this than he had felt exactly forty seconds ago.

There was a mumbling of similar sentiments before Cassandra continued, “I mentioned that your mark needs more power to close the Breach for good.”

“Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help,” said Leliana.

“And I still disagree,” Cullen said, resting one hand on the hilt of his sword. “The templars could serve just as well.”

Cassandra sighed. “We need power, Commander. Enough magic poured into that mark--”

“Might destroy us all,” Cullen interrupted, and any good will Revas felt towards the man immediately dissipated. “Templars could suppress the Breach, weaken it so--”

“Pure speculation,” Leliana dismissed.

“I was a templar. I know what they’re capable of.”

“Unfortunately, neither group will even speak to us yet,” Josephine said, to change the route of the conversation. “The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition -- and you, specifically.”

Revas nodded. “That doesn’t particularly surprise me. They still think I’m guilty, I assume?”

“That is not the entirety of it any longer. Some are calling you -- a Dalish elf -- the ‘Herald of Andraste’. That frightens the Chantry. The remaining clerics have declared it blasphemy, and we heretics for harboring you.”

“Chancellor Roderick’s doing, no doubt,” Cassandra said. Revas shrugged; the man might’ve contributed, sure, but he highly doubted that was even a significant chunk of the reason.

However, he had to ask. “Just how am I the ‘Herald of Andraste’?”

“People saw what you did at the temple, how you stopped the Breach from growing. They have also heard about the woman seen in the rift when we first found you. They believe that was Andraste.”

“Even if we tried to stop that view from spreading--” Leliana started.

“Which we have not,” Cassandra added.

“The point is, everyone is talking about you.”

“It’s quite the title, isn’t it?” Cullen said, with more of a smile. “How do you feel about that?”

Figuring that bluntly stating his distaste would make matters worse, Revas settled on, “It’s… a little unsettling.”

Cullen gave a light chuckle. “I’m sure the Chantry would agree.”

“People are desperate for a sign of hope,” Leliana said. “For some, you’re that sign.”

“And to others, a symbol of everything that’s gone wrong,” Josephine added. “Which limits our options. Approaching the mages or templars for help is currently out of the question.”

“Will the Chantry attack us?” Revas asked.

“With what?” Cullen replied. “They have only words at their disposal.”

“And yet, they may bury us with them,” Josephine said.

“There is something you can do,” Leliana said, after a moment. “A Chantry cleric by the name Mother Giselle has asked to speak to you. She is not far, and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable.”

“I’ll see what she has to say,” Revas said, though he hoped that he wouldn’t have to do so immediately. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could force himself to keep going. Besides, part of him felt like it was likely to be a trap.

“You will find Mother Giselle tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe.”

“Look for other opportunities to expand the Inquisition’s influence, while you’re there,” Cullen said.

“We need agents to extend our reach beyond this valley, and you’re better suited than anyone to recruit them,” Josephine said.

“In the meantime, let’s think of other options,” Cassandra said. “I won’t leave this all to the Herald. Besides, we will need to send scouts ahead first to report back to us.”

Revas relaxed his posture in relief; so he wasn’t going to be sent anywhere immediately. Thank the Creators. “No offense to any of you, but, can I go now? This is-- this is a lot.” He was starting to shift his weight from one leg to the other in an attempt to keep himself from feeling too much pain building up, and he could feel the rest of his body waking up, much to his chagrin. Yes, he was entirely done with being involved with any sort of meeting.

“You may.”

Permission granted, Revas quickly turned and left, stopping only by the Chantry doors. With a steadying inhale, he cautiously peered outside.

It looked like everyone had gone back to business as usual, which he was grateful for; he had no interest whatsoever in being Haven’s Andrastian savior sideshow act for much more of the day. He followed the worn path that led around the side of one cabin and opened out in front of the apothecary, which he ignored for now. There would be time to investigate it later.

Before he went too much farther, however, he’d stop by Solas; he’d spotted the elf waiting outside, deep in thought, and Revas had to admit there was a lot about the man he was curious about. It wasn’t like Revas would ever claim that he was fantastic at reading people, but Solas was notably difficult to read, though he did have to admit he’d known him for only a few hours at most.

Solas was first to speak when he approached. “The Chosen of Andraste, a blessed hero sent to save us all.” It was a careful tone, but Revas was pretty sure that he could read it as being meant as, partially, a joke. He wasn’t sure if he was projecting or not, there, but it was easier to read it as a joke.

In any case, he was going to reply like it was a joke. “Am I going to be riding in on a shining steed? I certainly couldn’t ride in on a halla, that’d rub up against everyone’s sensitivities.”

“I personally would have suggested a griffon, but sadly, they’re extinct,” Solas replied with a wry smile. Revas cursed to himself. Why did that look so charming on this man? He wasn’t going to think about it. “Joke as you will, posturing is necessary.”

Revas tilted his head slightly as Solas looked him over, considering him, before Solas turned to look away in a mysterious way, which he had to spend all his willpower trying to avoid rolling his eyes over. “I’ve journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations,” Solas continued, and this time Revas looked at him with curiosity, stepping forward to try to meet his gaze. “I’ve watched as hosts of spirits clash to reenact the bloody past in ancient wars “ Now Solas turned to face him directly. “Every great war has its heroes. I’m just curious what kind you’ll be.”

Revas made a face, unsure of how to respond. “What do you mean, ruins and battlefields?” He’d deflect for now. He was far more curious about what Solas meant about journeying into the Fade. It almost sounded like he was somniari.

“Any building strong enough to withstand the rigors of time has a history, every battlefield steeped in death. Both attract spirits. They press against the Veil, weakening the barrier between our worlds.” Revas nodded along as he listened. “When I dream in such places, I go deep into the Fade. I can find memories no other living being has ever seen.”

“I’ve never heard of anyone else going so deep into the Fade,” Revas said. It wasn’t entirely a lie; in reality, his pain kept him in a light enough sleep that he barely was present in the Fade, but on the occasions that he was in a deep enough sleep… “That’s incredible.”

“Thank you. It’s not a common field of study, for obvious reasons. Not so flashy as throwing fire or lightning. The thrill of finding remnants of a thousand-year-old dream? I would not trade it for anything.” Solas looked away. “I will stay then, at least until the Breach has been closed.”

“Oh? I thought it’d sounded like you’d already joined willingly,” Revas said.

“I am an apostate mage surrounded by Chantry forces and unlike you, I do not have a divine mark protecting me.” Now the annoyance, Revas could easily pick up on. “Cassandra has been accommodating, but you understand my caution.”

“I do,” Revas said. “But you came here to help, Solas. I won’t let them use that against you.”

Solas looked skeptical. “How would you stop them?”

“I’m pretty stubborn,” Revas replied. “I’d figure something out.”

Solas went silent for a moment, before finally saying, “Thank you. For now, let us hope either the mages or the templars have the power to seal the Breach.”

Revas shifted a little uncomfortably again, partly because of the ache building up in his feet, partly over the mention of templars, again. “I’d like to talk later, I think,” he said with a smile. “You seem incredibly interesting. ...that sounded a lot less like an insult in my head.”

“You’re overthinking this, I think,” Solas said. “I would be open to talking more later.”

He beamed. “Great! Great. I’ll see you later, then!”

He continued down the stairs, intent on making his next destination the tavern, but he slowed his pace upon overhearing yet another conversation not that far away; Revas glanced over to his right, spotting an elven worker talking to a Chantry sister.

“Are we going to have new verses in the Chant of Light about the Herald of Andraste, telling what he did?” The elf asked, and Revas stopped himself short. Oh, he didn’t like the idea of being part of the Chant of Light.

“It’s far too soon to consider anything like that,” the Chantry sister replied hastily, tone conveying that she definitely wouldn’t approve of such a development, if she had any say in the matter, which she likely wouldn’t.

The elf seemed to deflate a little bit. “I was talking with a friend who said there used to be a verse about an elf in the Chant of Light…”

“No, that’s not true,” the Chantry sister answered flatly. “I’m sorry, but that doesn’t mean the Maker loves you any less.”

Oh. It was time to cause problems.

With a grin on his face and his pupils dilating enough to almost hide his irises, like a cat who’d just spotted prey, Revas took his position beside the elven worker, eyebrows raised a little too high on his face. “I think his friend was right, actually,” he said, voice cheerful. “I grew up hearing about the Canticles of Shartan. He rallied our people to fight for our freedom, and was so successful that Andraste herself heard of him and sought to be allies and equals with him. She even made him her champion, after their victory at the Valerian Fields against the Tevinter Imperium’s army.”

He was revelling in this. The elf beside him watching him, enraptured as he spoke about Shartan, while the Chantry sister looked more and more like she’d like to kill him, but had no reason to actually complain, so long as he kept his tone entirely polite and cheerful.

“The Canticles also tell about how, when Andraste was betrayed and placed on the pyre, Shartan and a hundred elves had rushed forward, hoping to free her.” He allowed himself to become a little more somber. “They had all been killed by a hail of arrows before they could reach her, however. Andraste’s children hadn’t forgotten what our people had done for her, though, and had granted us the Dales as our new homeland. That said, the Chantry declared the Canticles of Shartan a Dissonant Verse at the same time that they’d declared an Exalted March on our people in the Dales, three hundred years after they’d been granted the land as a new home. Funny how those numbers work out, don’t they?” He grinned, placing a finger on his stubble-covered chin. “Anyway, the Canticles are a lot longer than I can really recite in one go. I’d be happy to copy it down for you, though! My clan may not believe in the Chant, but we do tell stories of Shartan. He was an important figure for both of us.”

“Would you really?” The elf asked.

“Of course!” He beamed. Revas turned to the sister, with the same cheerful beam. “I’m very sorry to have interrupted like this, but I certainly couldn’t pass up a chance to talk about Shartan. It would be a shame to forget about his deeds entirely, wouldn’t you agree?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could spot Solas - who had surely overheard every single word of that - looking on and laughing to himself.

Feeling more than just a little pleased with himself, he continued down into the tavern. He had a little coin; actually, he wasn’t sure if he needed the coin or not, but he figured it was probably better to err on the side of caution than look like an absolute dick about things. He relaxed his shoulders a little as he entered, though he absolutely would’ve been embarrassed to admit that at this point, he was hungry enough that even the smell of alcohol in the air was appetizing.

Still, he’d never been in a tavern before. He took a moment to glance around; it was a pleasant enough place, with a warm fire burning in a fireplace, soldiers and villagers gathered around tables. Even though he felt out of place, it wasn’t an uncomfortable place to be. He was grateful, though, that there was a bard in the corner playing music. The music and the chatter was enough to cover up his stomach’s complaints, at least.

Revas’s gaze finally fell on a red-haired and green-eyed woman behind a counter, talking to someone -- one of the construction workers, he was pretty sure -- and figured that his best bet was to approach the counter.

Well, here goes nothing. “Hey--”

“Oh, Maker, you’re him!” The woman gasped. Revas tried his hardest to keep his face from falling. “The Herald of Andraste! And you were sent to shame us for mistreating the elves! I pay my elves good and proper, you should know. Friend of the alienage and all, and… I mean, I’m Flissa. Can I get you a drink?”

So much for that. “I’m… not from an alienage. Though I’m glad to hear it.” He was going to give her the benefit of the doubt. Or he was going to try to. “I’m Dalish.”

“Oh, right, of course,” Flissa tittered. “Because of the… the things on your face, yes.”

“My vallaslin,” he gently corrected. “It’s… no, I don’t need anything. Thank you. I was just going around getting to know people. Have a good rest of your day.”

He turned on his heel and walked right out. Well, there was a place he was never going to go inside of again if he could help it. What was he supposed to do now? Meet more people, probably, which wasn’t an idea that really appealed to him at this point. Frankly, he was pretty sure that if one more person said some weird shit to him, he would lose all sense of self-preservation and snap.

Maybe he’d be happiest just going straight back to his cabin. He’d never felt the need for the human brand of privacy within his own clan, more than willing to be out in the open and available for any of his family to talk to, but now he wanted nothing more than to lock himself away for a few hours just to have something to himself. Maybe it really hadn’t been that bad being a prisoner here.

Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. Down the next short flight of stairs he’d go, then; at least until he spotted Varric down by a decently sized cooking fire. The dwarf spotted him at around the same time, waving him down. Mood lifting slightly, Revas hurried up his pace, glancing around for a quick moment before spotting a pile of wood to sit on. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to sit, but it was something, at least. Varric ladled some soup from the pot over the fire into a bowl, which he handed off to Revas once he joined him on the shorter stack of wood.

Curious, he stirred the contents of the bowl. It smelled a lot like lightly seasoned butter, if that was your thing, with noodles and potatoes mixed in. It didn’t wasn’t very offensive, at least, and most importantly, it was certainly edible. With a quiet ‘thanks’, Revas quickly dug in, relaxing a bit in the comforting facsimile of home, even if it was significantly colder, and had a lot more permanent buildings around.

“So, now that Cassandra’s out of earshot, are you holding up alright?” Varric asked, once Revas had slowed down a little. He gave a little laugh. “I mean, you go from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the armies of the faithful. Most people would’ve spread that out over more than one day.”

“I mean, technically, I did spread it out,” Revas said with a wry smile. “I was just unconscious for most of it.” He paused, before answering, “I’ll be honest with you, I have no idea what’s happening at this point. I didn’t think things could get even more confusing, but here we are, I guess!”

“Yeah, that you did. This shit’s confusing for me, too. For days now, we’ve been staring at the Breach, watching demons and Maker-knows-what fall out of it. ‘Bad for morale’ would be an understatement. I still can’t believe anyone was in there and lived.”

“No kidding,” he agreed. “Part of the reason why I’m still not really sure any of this is actually happening. All those people there, and I’m the one who survives it?”

“If this is all just the Maker winding us up, I hope there’s a damn good punchline coming.” Varric glanced over at Revas. “You might want to consider running at the first opportunity. I’ve written enough tragedies to know where this is going. Heroes are everywhere. I’ve seen that. But the hole in the sky? That’s beyond heroes. We’re going to need a miracle.”

Revas met his gaze, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. “You’ve got your opportunity to run, don’t you? Why aren’t you running?”

“Well, I’d like to think I’m as selfish and irresponsible as the next guy, but this…” Varric trailed off for a moment, before settling on, “Thousands of people died on that mountain. I was almost one of them. And now there’s a big hole in the sky. Even I can’t walk away and just leave that to sort itself out.”

Revas snorted lightly, keeping to himself that he was pretty sure Varric was wholly unable to just let any sort of bad situation lie -- at least, if his book about the Champion of Kirkwall was to be believed. Instead, he’d just quietly agree. “Yeah. I don’t think running would do much good, anyway. I mean, what, I go back to my clan and just run from ex-Circle mages and templars again?”

Varric winced. Revas caught it, and gave a sympathetic look. “Thank you for not getting weird about things, by the way,” Revas said. “Not that I thought you would, but it’s a relief that you’re not going on about me being sent by Andraste to punish people.”

At this, the dwarf laughed. “Oh, I see you met Flissa. She acted pretty awkward with me, too. Said something about how she loves stone to me, and I had to tell her that I have absolutely no Stone sense and don’t care about that crap.”

“Well I’m the Herald of Andraste, and I’m here to punish everyone for mistreating the elves! Which. I mean.” He looked thoughtful. “Actually, I’d love to, but so far the best I can safely do is be really sarcastic at people and hope they get the point.” He sighed. “Anyway, I wish everyone would cut it out with the Andraste and Maker shit. Honestly, if I was really sent by anyone, I was probably sent by one of my Creators. My best guesses are either Mythal, or, considering how miserable most of this has been so far, Fen’harel.”

“Probably Mythal, if we take everyone at their word on the woman in the rift,” Varric said.

“To be fair, I do remember seeing a woman, so no one’s making that up,” Revas said. “I just don’t remember much more than that, unfortunately.”

“Still think you should’ve made something up.”

“You know, I should’ve. I could’ve controlled the Andrastians swooping in to call me their personal savior then, at least.” Revas then paused, tilting his head slightly and bringing his fingers to his lips. “On second thought, there’s definitely something entertaining about them saying I’m their personal savior. I guess I can tolerate it.” He looked at Varric. “Sorry, sorry, just. I needed to get that out of my system. Today’s already been a lot.”

“Don’t worry about it, Blue Jay,” Varric replied. “I don’t mind listening. It’s why I asked about how you’re doing at all.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right.” Out of anything else to add, he sat for a few more moments. Ugh, the moment he got up from this woodpile, he’d have to acknowledge the reality that this was really happening and that this wasn’t, in fact, some bizarre coma dream. Finally, he sighed, gently resting a hand on Varric’s shoulder for a moment to squeeze, more to reassure himself. “I should probably go back to the Chantry. See what I should be doing while we wait, I guess.”

“Good luck, don’t let Cassandra bite.”

They both laughed at that. “I won’t, I promise. Unless she asks nicely.”

With that, he stood up, taking a moment to stretch his aching knees, eyes widening for a split second as his left knee tried to bend backwards slightly before he corrected himself, muttering under his breath. He felt a little better, at least. Well enough to finish his loop around Haven to poke around in the Chantry again.

Doing his best to avoid the Chantry brothers and sisters, he proceeded through the hallway, ears twitching upwards as he picked up on another argument. It hadn’t taken very long for something else to become a problem, had it?

More than a little curious, he quietly opened the door.

“The Inquisition cannot remain, Ambassador, if you can’t prove it was founded on Justinia’s orders,” a bald masked man with a horrid little accent said to Josephine, who had fixed him with a level-headed look.

“This is an inopportune time, Marquis. More of the faithful flock here each day,” Josephine calmly responded. Glancing over, she noticed Revas, and without missing a beat, she continued, “But allow me to introduce you to the brave soul who risked his life to slow down the magic of the Breach. Master Lavellan, this is the Marquis DuRellion, one of Divine Justinia’s greatest supporters.”

“And the rightful owner of Haven,” DuRellion said as Revas leaned forward in a slight bow, willing to be polite but not willing enough to do a proper bow. “House DuRellion lent Justinia these lands for a pilgrimage. This ‘Inquisition’ is not a beneficiary of this arrangement.”

He did his best to not let himself furrow his brows too much, instead replying, “I didn’t know that Haven had an owner outside of the Chantry.”

“My wife, Lady Machen of Denerim, has claim to Haven by ancient treaty with the monarchs of Ferelden. We were honoured to lend its use to Divine Justinia. She is…” He caught himself. “She was a woman of supreme merit. I will not let an upstart Order remain on her holy grounds.”

Oh shit. He hadn’t expected to have to give some kind of response to this. Pressing down the spike of anxiety, he pointed out, “People have been injured. You can’t just toss them out into the snow.”

“And who benefits if they stay?”

“Divine Justinia, Marquis,” Josephine said, voice firm. “The Inquisition -- not the Chantry -- is sheltering the pilgrims who mourn her.”

This took the heat off Revas, at least. “Why is the Chantry ignoring the faithful?” DuRellion asked.

“Because it remains in shock.”

DuRellion stared at her for a moment before sighing and shaking his head, tossing his arms out to the side for a moment in defeat.

“We face a dark time, Your Grace,” Josephine said. “Divine Justinia would not want her passing to divide us. She would, in fact, trust us to forge new alliances to the benefit of all, no matter how strange they might seem.”

“I’ll… think on it, Lady Montilyet,” DuRellion acquiesced. “The Inquisition... might stay in the meanwhile.”

Without another word, he left the room, Revas turning slightly to watch him leave. He tilted his head, quiet for a few moments, before turning to look at Josephine. “Do the DuRellion’s actually have a claim on this place?” He asked. The concept was a strange one to him; why bother claiming to own the land when they were hardly here at all? At least, he could only assume that the marquis didn’t actually live here. He clearly sounded Orlesian, and from what he knew of Ferelden, Denerim wasn’t exactly close to Haven.

“His Grace’s position is not so strong as he presents it,” Josephine said. “Despite their Fereldan relations, the DuRellions are Orlesian. If the marquis wishes to claim Haven, Empress Celene must negotiate with Ferelden on his behalf.”

Revas frowned. “That sounds like a problem a little too insignificant compared to… all of this.”

“It is,” she agreed. “Her current concerns are a bit larger than minor property disputes.”

Well, that was a relief to hear. “I’m glad he’s not going to toss us out into the cold. I’m, uh, sorry for interrupting.”

“You did little harm. Actually, you did rather well. In truth, the debate was most beneficial as practice for those to come.”

Oh, no. “You expect more people in Haven?”

“Undoubtedly. And each visitor will spread the story of the Inquisition after they depart.” Josephine turned to sit at her desk, smiling as she settled in. “An ambassador should ensure that the tale is as complimentary as possible.”

“Something I think you’ll be very good at, if you aren’t already,” Revas said. “What brought you to work for the Inquisition?”

“Sister Leliana approached me. We’ve been acquainted for quite some time,” she explained. “For better or worse, being the Inquisition’s diplomat has become as interesting as she promised.”

He nodded. “You seem to be very experienced in dealing with nobility. Have you done that for a while, or…?”

“I have. I was the royally appointed court ambassador from Antiva to Orlais for some years. The nobility of Thedas is a rather singular sphere. Those I’m not acquainted with, I know through reputation.”

Revas straightened his posture before giving a deeper bow. “The Inquisition is incredibly lucky to have you as an advocate, Lady Montilyet.” Truth be told, he felt a little silly being so polite, but he figured he could afford the strange feeling, considering that Josephine was the first person here so far who had made the effort of pronouncing his name correctly, and was treating him like a person without making a big deal about it.

“Thank you,” Josephine said, with a slight bow of her head. “Let us hope so. Thedas’s politics have become... agitated as of late, I hope to guide us down smoother paths. But please excuse me. I’ve much work to do before the day is done.”

“Me too, I think. It was great talking to you on a more, uh--” He spun his hand in the air a few times, struggling to find the word. “Private? Personal? Level? It was good to meet you. I’m sure Cassandra has more than a few ideas of what I should be doing.”

With a shallow bow, he turned on his heel and headed out of the side room to seek out the Seeker. There was a lot that he’d have to handle before a report from the scouts sent to the Hinterlands was sent back.


End file.
